Does anyone else remember that intense, overwhelming feeling of holiday cheer? At what age does that begin to fade? 10…11? Sooner? For me, it was a few months before I turned 11.

I was so accustomed to spending endless amounts of time with our extended family. We would get together, rather frequently; messing around, picking on each other, and just have fun…ya know, normal kid stuff.

They lived in this beautiful 3 story town house, with what I had thought to be, the most extravagant living room I had ever seen. Along the outer walls were big open windows, framed with golden brown trim and hard wood flooring to match. On this hardwood floor, was a small area rug beneath what seemed to be the most cushiony, 10 person sectional sofa, surrounding the perfect sized coffee table. Across the couch in one corner, was their giant sized plasma screen tv (remember those?). In the adjacent corner was a brick fireplace. I had never been in a house that had a real, actual fireplace; I thought it was the coolest thing ever.

Behind the couch was lots of space; empty space that was not being used for anything in particular. Lots of room for us kids to run around and annoy the adults, more windows to peer out of to view the street.

Adjoining the living room was the dining room. There was a long table, one that had the extensions to pull out on each end, so there was enough room for all of us to have a place a the table, as well as plenty of walk around room. Whenever I think of that room, I can see the large buffet style spread adorning the table, home made dishes that were absolutely delicious, holiday decor to liven up the room, candles and other accessories. Whether it was a holiday dinner, our decorating table for ginger bread houses, there was lots of laughter, love, and memories made around that table.

There were 2 staircases leading up to the second floor. One was located near the front entrance, which also had one of those under-the-staircase cabinets (I also that was super cool), with the other one on the opposite side of the house in the kitchen. You go up the stairs and there was a hallway with 4 entries into 4 separate bedrooms. For someone who always had to share a room, you could say I was pretty jealous. Further down the hall was another bathroom, and right before that was another staircase, only this one lead up to the attic.

For context, we, a family of 5, were living in a 3 bedroom rental house out along the country side. My sister and I shared a room, my brother had a room, and my parents had their room. One bathroom to share, and a dirt floor cellar. Even though it wasn’t a fancy, extravagant house, it was my first home that I remember growing up in and I kind of miss it somedays.

I have a lot of happy memories tied to both houses. My aunts house had more room for entertaining and hosting holidays. Eventually we moved to a bigger house, a home, in a different town but with a little more room. It was shortly after that, within that same year, my grandma was diagnosed with cancer. It took way too long to get diagnosed; doctors kept dismissing it as something else until she finally went to a better hopsital and they finally found it. She took treatments for awhile, eventually giving up due to the toll it was taking on her. Once the treatments stopped, she declined rather quickly, and passed away about a week before Thanksgiving. After that, we didn’t have large family gatherings anymore.

Often times, when a family member dies, it turns out they were the glue that was holding things together. Very quickly we all fell apart. I remember telling my dad that there wasn’t much to be thankful for that year, and he rightfully disagreed and said there was a lot to be thankful for. I told my mom I felt like I was going to die of a broken heart. It was such a drastic change in a short amount of time. We went from an entire house full with 3 generations, to no communication at all. So many emotions all at once, so much rapid change, so much hurt and anger among everyone in the family. Instead of going through it together, we all went through it on our own. I understand everyone grieves in their own way, but to me it seemed to make matters worse. Isn’t that what family is for? To come together in times of suffering and turmoil? That troublesome time is what redefined our hopes and dreams for the future.

The adults stopped talking as much, meaning us cousins were no longer getting together. Everyone was hurting, with no idea on how to begin to heal. I can’t blame anyone, it’s not their fault. It’s not like there’s a book or a class to teach you how to handle watching someone slowly decay right before your eyes…is there?

My grandpa, poor guy, had it the worst. He took care of her as she became more and more bedridden. She stayed in their home, right up until her last day, before she was transported to the local hospice. She was there for about 9 hours before she passed on. Before she took a turn for the worst, we would visit her at the house. Pain stricken, you could see her life slowly draining by the way her eyes shined less, and less, trying so hard to put on a happy face whenever we visited, but I could tell she felt hopeless.

Afterwards, family matters became less and less important, especially for my grandpa. Not only did his wife pass away, but no one came around to his house anymore or answered his phone calls, stopped helping him out on the farm. He understood, of course, how hard it was for everyone, but at least they had their spouses and their kids to share in their pain. He was alone; completely alone for the first time in over 30 years, left in a house with constant reminders of loosing the best thing that had ever happened to him.

When did your innocence die?